


Storms and Fire

by vtn



Category: The Network (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-20
Updated: 2006-06-20
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/pseuds/vtn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before they ever meet, Viktor and Wilhelm's lives run parallel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storms and Fire

EXT. A dark and stormy night. Trees whip in the wind under a red sky that throbs, subdued, like a burst vein under the skin of the clouds. Lights flicker in the distance, covered then uncovered by leaves. The artificial stars of the city.

Zoom in on a small window, from which emanates a soft light from a smouldering fire. The light flickers. Smoke curls from the house's chimney, mostly unnoticed, reaching up to caress the branches and then to streak the sky, as one with the similarly smoky clouds.

INT. A cozy room with bookshelves stacked precariously, close enough to touch the nose of the room's inhabitant if he so much as makes a ninety-degree rotation. But he is silent and motionless, save for the hand that clutches a fountain pen and writes furiously with it, diagramming, making notes, creating a modern Frankenstein's Monster of the mind. His handwriting is thin, with long loops and flourishes.

His angled features throw shadows against the shelves and throughout his sunken face, which is dark enough as it is. He has hair the color of wet tree bark and eyes that are usually the same color but, as he's positioned at a particular angle to the window, tonight reflect the sky.

As he holds the pen still, pausing to think, the black ink stains his thumb and index finger. He lets the pen slide to the desk, and rises to stoke the fire.

EXT. Hamburg, Germany. It is a cold night, and a young boy clutches his long overcoat close to him as freezing rain streaks the grey with black.

Overlay the image of the sparks flying as the poker strikes the logs.

The boy flinches suddenly, clutching his head in his hands.

Pan out on the rain-battered city, the sounds of the poker the only thing audible. Sillhouette the boy's profile against the city lights.

Fade to black.


End file.
